I've been dreading this month all year

It is March. In only a few more weeks, it will be a year since I gave birth to my second son, Christopher. It will be a year since I had to say good-bye.

I was listening to an Elton John song a few days ago called "The Greatest Discovery."

Here are the lyrics.

Peering out of tiny eyes

The grubby hands that gripped the rail

Wiped the window clean of frost

As the morning air laid on the latch

A whistle awakened someone there

Next door to the nursery just down the hall

A strange new sound you never heard before

A strange new sound that makes boys explore

Tread neat so small those little feet

Amid the morning his small heart beats

So much excitement yesterday

That must be rewarded must be displayed

Large hands lift him through the air

Excited eyes contain him there

The eyes of those he loves and knows

But what's this extra bed just here

His puzzled head tipped to one side

Amazement swims in those bright green eyes

Glancing down upon this thing

That make strange sounds, strange sounds that sing

In those silent happy seconds

That surround the sound of this event

A parent smile is made in moments

They have made for you a friend

And all you ever learned from them

Until you grew much older

Did not compare with when they said

This is your brand new brother

This is your brand new brother

This is your brand new brother

This isn't the first time I've heard this song. I've heard it many times. I remember hearing it and crying when I thought that I wouldn't have any children. I remember hearing it and crying when I thought I wouldn't be able to have more than one. And I remember crying because my girls actually did have a brother (not that we wouldn't have been thrilled with a girl either, but I was thrilled to have a boy too!)

But the other day, I cried. And cried and cried. I cried because S will never be able to have a brother. I cried because I will never have any more children. And I cried because I missed my littlest little boy. And I cried because I wanted SO much to be able to bring Christopher into our home. But instead he lives in our hearts.